((Milo Taylor continued from Where Is My Mind?. I was told that you needed someone obnoxious in the thread, so here you go.))

"Oh god... fuck me Jesus I need to take a break," Milo muttered to himself. He had been running, retracing his steps for several hours straight, and his lungs felt like a million knives were tearing them from the inside. Fortunately, he had come to a copse of cypress trees, mostly inaccessible except for one open side. He dropped his daypack on a group of rocks, slumped against one of the trees, and almost immediately fell asleep without noticing the girl who was occupying a nearby treetop, or the severed head she had dropped on the ground.

Milo awoke in a plane that was almost entirely white. For some reason, he was in the fetal position.

"Yo. Get up, you stupid fuckwit," a mysterious voice said. Milo scrambled to his feet, looked at the source of the voice, and saw nothing.

"Right behind you, shit-for-brains." Milo looked behind him and shrieked like a young girl at what he saw. The creature talking to him was quite literally himself, but red and naked. The creature had a featureless crotch (Milo silently thanked himself for that) and an extremely long nose. "Look, I'm gonna get straight to the point. I'm your id," the creature explained.

"My what?" Milo was perplexed. He had heard the term in AP Psychology, but after he had passed that AP test with a score of three at the end of his junior year, the information seemed to clear itself from his memory.

"Your id. The manifestation of your unconscious desires. Every time you've wanted to fuck a girl, every time you've wanted to procrastinate on studying, every time you've praised your own existence and hailed yourself as a god, I was behind the wheel," Milo-id explained, exasperated at Milo's stupidity but otherwise extremely proud of his "host."

"Ah. That explains a lot. So... what about the rest of my mind? There's three parts, right?" Milo asked. With that question, a horse poofed into existence.

"I'm your superego," the horse said, "which makes you the ego."

"Holy fuck, a talking horse!" Milo nearly fainted right there.

"Yes, and I'm not really pleased with you. You're kind of an asshole. I represent the morality principle, which you appear to have completely ditched in favor of sucking that guy's fat hairy cock," Milo-superego said to Milo, gesturing towards Milo-id. The mental image of this made Milo shudder with abject horror, and Milo decided that he did not really like his morality principle.

"Are you really that shocked? He doesn't like it when you do things I'm proud of." The red imp glared at the horse. "And seriously, that mental image is horrifying. Please never say anything like that again. Seriously, I don't even have a cock!" the creature yelled.

"Do you want him gone? I'm gonna warn you right here, if you get rid of him you're probably gonna turn into a bigger asshole than before. Which is really saying something," Milo-id warned. In a sense, he was lying by omission; Milo was almost entirely controlled by his id to begin with, so getting rid of the superego wouldn't really do a whole lot.

"Yeah, he's annoying as hell, how do I get rid of this douche?"

"Punch the horse."

"What?" Milo hesitated.

"I said, punch the horse."

"Wait, what the fuck? That's retarded."

"Suits you pretty well. Now punch the goddamn horse!"

"What the fu-"

Milo walked up to Milo-superego and interrupted his objection by swinging his fist upwards at its throat. The horse's head jerked upwards with a sickening crack as its upper spine snapped, then lolled to the side as the equine animal fell over. Milo, dissatisfied by the fact that his superego had not simply disappeared, got down on his knees and began repeatedly hitting it in the head. Milo-id's expression turned from mild amusement to utter glee.

"Wait, was this seriously all for the sake of a horrible pun? Seriously?" Milo asked, somewhat annoyed that this had happened.

"Yes, actually. I'm a dick like that," Milo-id explained.

"Did it do anything, though?"

"Do you hear that asshole admonishing you for being too sinful anymore?"

"No."

"Well, that should answer your question. Now, before I go, I leave you with this to ponder: let your anger be as a monkey in a pinata, hiding with the candy, hoping the kids don't break through with the stick." And with that, Milo's id faded away and Milo woke up.

One day, the fabled Ragnarok will come, and as the gods descend to earth and wage war while the world dies around them, WickedIcon will lead the charge, a 12-gauge shotgun in his right hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left as he rides a steed made of fire and pain.

And the masses will look upon him and weep at the beauty of it all.

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[19:25] Hallucinogenic: it's not like i wanna put my anus on parade

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04:26MimiOH04:26MimiTHAT'S LESS BAD04:27MimiI THOUGHT SHE HAD TO JERK OFF MONKEYS